Greenhorn's Guide to Greatness
by sensual l e t t u c e
Summary: Ruth had once called them "Survival Gurus". Though Charon couldn't quite remember if that was before or after he decided she was batshit crazy.
1. Glowing Personality

**Disclaimer:** Fallout 3 belongs to Interplay Entertainment, Black Isle Studios, Micro Forte, Bethesda Game Studios, Obsidian Entertainment, etc - all of whom I am not!

The Lone Wanderer Ruth travels the wastelands researching for everyone's (not)favorite Crater-side Supply owner! Oh, and trying to find clues about her father along the way.

* * *

><p>Willow leaned against the half-wall of the metro, a cigarette hanging out the side of her mouth, her rifle at her side. The day was turning out to be quite a good one - the Muties were hidden in their trenches, though she could hear the occasional grunt or shout - and those Brotherhood assholes were tucked away inside the fence of the Washington monument, probably taking advantage of the non-violence to play a round of cards or get drunk.<p>

"Bastards..." The ghoulette muttered, mulling over whether or not to bring out a bottle as well if the day was going to be this slow.

She exhaled and gave the area a once over, nothing had changed... but it seemed her break would have to wait as in the distance, a form appeared. "Huh...?" She hummed absently, watching the silhouette grow closer. And closer.

The person seemed to be running. And waving to her.

"What...?" She squinted, and made out the white symbol of a claw on the breastplate of the persons armor. "...the hell?"

Why the fuck was a Talon Merc trying to flag her down?

The person seemed to be the only one, but as far as she was concerned, one was already too many. The Merc slowed to a fast walk as they closed the distance. and the ghoulette noted the way they were holding one arm against their side with the other.

_Typical,_ she thought, _They get injured and suddenly it's like we're best friends._

She flicked the end of her cigarette and watched, surprised and amused when the mercenary walked straight past her towards the entrance of her city. Those assholes would rather suck on a shotgun than interact with a ghoul - or so she had heard.

"What do you think you're doing there, smoothskin?" She questioned.

The mercenary's face and hair was obstructed by a hat, so when a very annoyed, very female voice replied, "I'll be happy to fill you in after I get myself fixed up, if you don't mind." Willow was again, surprised. Usually Talon Company only recruited men.

The sentry raised her rifle at the woman - who stopped short and raised her good arm. "Whoa, don't shoot, I'm just in a hurry-"

"We don't welcome your kind in here, so just go back to wherever you assholes come from or I'll be forced to blow your head off, which I wouldn't mind doing right about now - slow day and all." She gestured to the outlying streets.

"What the fuck? Willow, it's me!" She exclaimed, ripping the hat off. "Shit, are you guys really still mad about that hole I accidentally blew in the ceiling?"

The ghoulette blinked. Unruly magenta-colored hair tumbled to the girls shoulders, and a pair of black rimmed glasses sat on her nose. It was the vault kid. "Tourist?" She lowered her weapon. "Why the hell are you wearing that - do you have a death wish?"

The kid looked down at her armor and shook her head. "Oh, I forgot I was wearing this." Willow raised an eyebrow and she gave a one-arm shrug. "All my other armor is in pretty poor condition, so I just stole this."

"I take it that's how you got that." The ghoulette gestured to her injured arm, but the kid just grinned sheepishly.

"Something like that."

Willow brought the cigarette back to her lips and waved the kid off. "Whatever, go get fixed up, then you can tell me what crazy-ass mission you're on this time."

The girl laughed and nodded, disappearing into the doors of the museum entrance.

The sentry sighed and resumed watch, making sure whatever the kid had gotten into wasn't on her heels.

* * *

><p>Inside the Museum of History, on the steps of the double doors leading into the aptly named city of ghouls, Greta sat, taking a greatly needed smoke break.<p>

Smoking was a vice that many ghouls partook in, it was cheap, it steadied the nerves, and hell - it wasn't like they could die from it

Inhaling slowly, the ghoulette heard the creak of the old museum doors and guessed it to be Willow. "Hey..." She started to greet, but stopped when a Talon Merc rounded the corner. _What the fuck?_ Her cigarette fell to the floor in surprise.

Greta reached for her gun but the merc waved her off - walking straight towards the door to the Museum's upper halls. "It's just me Greta - it's a long story and I'll tell you all about it later."

"Vaultie - eh, Ruth?" She realized that indeed, it was the kid. "Dr. Burrows is a competent doctor you know - hell, he'd probably be ecstatic to help you." The ghoulette motioned behind her to the entrance into Underworld when she observed that the kid was injured. Carol would be devastated if anything happened to the smoothskin, after all.

"I know, don't worry, I'll be right as rain in a little bit!" Ruth happily replied, leaving Greta alone in the main room. She disappeared behind the mammoth figure, but Greta could still hear her muttering to herself until the sound of the door opening and slamming shut brought the silence back.

_Weird girl._ She thought, picking up her cigarette and inspecting it, before pressing it back between her lips.

A few minutes ticked by silently.

She strained her ears but heard no gunfire, or screams of pain. _Probably got rushed the second she stepped inside_, the ghoulette mused, finding the thought morbidly entertaining.

The kid had entered the museum's lone exhibit area on only one other occasion, and minutes later, had ran back out, jabbering on about how she was so sorry for shooting someone who had once belonged to the Underworld population. Nobody had cared - ferals were nothing but mindless killers anyway - but many had gotten a kick out of seeing the vaultie so worked up.

Nobody really hated her around Underworld, even though Winthrop had swore to Megaton and back that he'd toss her out if she even looked at the ceiling wrong. "Shriveled ass sure can hold a grudge," She mumbled.

Greta was brought out of her thoughts as the doors behind her opened and a figure stepped out. They leaned against the wall, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and placing one between rough lips.

Digging into her pocket, she pulled out a lighter and tossed it to the figure. "Left that earlier." The ghoul caught it without trouble, giving her a nod of thanks.

They stood in companionable silence, but Greta's cig was spent and her break running longer than she had intended. She knew Carol would not berate her for it, but as her eyes returned to the empty hallway Ruth had disappeared into, she imagined the sweet ghoulette heartbroken over the loss of the vault kid she had come to care for.

"Damn it, I'm going after her." She convinced herself, tossing the filter to the floor.

Her companion turned to look at her, at the sudden declaration. "Who? " He questioned, eyebrow raised.

"The idiot kid!"

He stared blankly at her for a moment. "The girl from the vault?" The ghoul had never really met Ruth, off on various errands for Azrukhal many of the times she visited. She hadn't set foot in the 9th Circle yet, much to his boss's chargin. "Didn't know she was back."

"A few minutes ago, she ran in there with a crippled arm and a stupid look on her face. Took off into there for god knows what, and I'll never hear the end of it if I don't go in there after her."

The ghoul 'hmm'ed' quietly and pushed off the wall. "I'll go." It would be the most interesting thing to happen all day, other than watching miserable ghouls unsuccessfully try to drown themselves in liquor - which was how his days always seemed to progress.

Greta looked at him in surprise but he was gone before she managed a reply.

* * *

><p>Charon pushed the aging door open with his forearm, surveying the area before stepping through.<p>

Crumbling displays and dim, flickering lights greeted him. He didn't immediately see any signs of death or a struggle, which was a good sign that the kid was still alive.

Or incapacitated and dragged off for lunch. That thought was banished - he'd never seen a feral with that kind of control.

He silently walked forward, a bit curious if this "Ranger of the Wastes" - as that idiot on the radio had nicknamed her - was everything her reputation suggested.

The cafeteria lay in front of him, filled with a handful of ferals prowling the floor, hissing and grunting to each other. One near the door caught sight of him and stood from it's crouched position. Charon merely stared at it when it took two steps forward, surveying him.

A feral was a lot like a mutant to a ghoul - if you didn't bother them, they wouldn't bother you. Growling, the feral turned from him, but Charon had already moved toward the stairs.

It was then that he heard the tell-tale signs of a struggle. Slowly sliding his shotgun from the holster on his back, he crept up, passing the crumbling displays of old.

"Nghh… just... hold still…" A breathless voice hissed in pain. Charon was lowered his weapon and stood, cautiously peering around the wall.

It took him a moment to actually process what he was seeing.

Ruth's features were lit up in a ghastly green light, and he could see the glazed look in her eyes from her slouched position on a bench. What he couldn't seem to process, was the rope-bound, flailing form of a glowing one at her feet. She seemed to be… basking in the glow?

"What the hell are you doing kid?" Charon all but yelled, pulling the girl up by her shoulders. She struggled to focus on him as he moved - dragged, really - her away from the aura radiating off of the feral.

"Ohhh, Sharen, Chary… Charnnn!" She muttered as he hoisted her up in one hand, brandishing his shotgun in the other.

He grunted and readied himself for the group of ferals at the bottom of the stairs wondering if it was worth saving someone who clearly had a death wish.


	2. I Can Walk it Off

**Disclaimer:** Fallout 3 belongs to Interplay Entertainment, Black Isle Studios, Micro Forte, Bethesda Game Studios, Obsidian Entertainment, etc - all of whom I am not!

The Lone Wanderer Ruth travels the wastelands researching for everyone's (not)favorite Crater-side Supply owner! Oh, and trying to find clues about her father along the way.

* * *

><p>Ruth stirred, limbs twitching before she abruptly sat up, startling the people converged at the foot of the gurney she was laying on.<p>

"Oh thank god you're awake - I thought the radiation had fried your brain!" The woman at her side fretted, brushing a hand through her clumpy blond hair to stop from reaching out and crushing her in a hug.

"Radiation?" The young woman brought a hand up, scratching the side of her head in thought. She turned her gaze to her arm and a bright smile broke out her face as she wiggled her fixed wrist.

"Ohh, that. Don't worry Carol I'm fin-nneah!" She exclaimed, rubbing her head where another woman smacked her.

"Don't you start on that 'I'm fine' shit vaultie, you scared the life out of us… well, mostly Carol, what the hell were you thinking?" Greta ground out, crossing her arms.

A throat cleared. "Yes, I would definitely like to hear your explanation." The ghoul wiped his hands on a stray rag and walked to the side of the bed, staring down at her. "Killing yourself is one thing, but doing so with radiation poisoning - and therefore robbing me of the pleasure of using your body's tissues for my research is a malicious act indeed!"

Carol's reproachful look swept across the bed at him. "Dr. Barrows!"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Kill myself…? Is that what you think I was doing?" Ruth started to chuckle. "If I was going to off myself it would be in one mean bastard of an explosion, with several hundred people coming along for the ride."

It was silent for a moment, before Carol patted Ruth's hand as if saying 'that's nice, dear'.

"What I was actually doing was healing my broken arm, see?" She started flailing the limb, taking in their skeptical faces. "OK, OK, I know how crazy that sounds but listen, I sat in a pool of irradiated water next to a bomb for hours because Moira said she'd pay me if I got radiation sickness but then she said I'd be doing a great deed for science if I got really really irradiated because she had this cure and I felt fine after but she said she could 'hear my genes crying' which might have been a product of my drug-hazed mind and BAM - a teeny, tiny, mutation that fixes my bones when my rad levels skyrocket!" Ruth finished, taking a deep breath.

Greta sighed taking that as her cue to get the hell out. "I give up. Come find me when you're ready for a meal."

Barrows oogled her with a gleam in his eye. "This… this is truly a great day for science, no medicine - oh hell, you must let me analyze you!" A test tube and syringe appeared in his hands, but Ruth backed up, shaking her head. The last time he had tried to 'analyze' her, it hadn't gone well for either party.

It seemed the doctor was going to try to procure some samples anyway, but Carol stepped in front of the young girl, and a smack upside the head by his nurse made him grumble, hiding away his instruments.

"Patient consent first, testing after." She reminded him, her gravelly voice taking on a reprimanding tone.

The doctor sulked at his desk while Nurse Graves handed a small bottle of pills to the patient.

"Your radiation levels are fairly low at the moment, Ruth, so please try to keep them that way. 'Mutation' aside, that isn't good for your health." A small smile crossed her non-existent lips. "I'll see you soon!"

"Don't you mean 'might'?"

Carol ushered the young woman out the door.

"She means 'I might see you soon', right?"

* * *

><p>Ruth sat at the table, quietly eating a bowl of whatever Greta was cooking.<p>

At first, the silence had unnerved Carol, but she figured that the young girl was tired from her earlier ordeal and decided to let her be. She grabbed a rag and started wiping the counter down, focusing on a particular dark stain that the ghoulette had sworn she'd remove years ago.

Greta continued to stir the pot, as soon many residents would be there for the afternoon meal.

For the moment they forgot about their silent guest, so when she slammed her hands down on the table, they jumped - Carol letting out a small screech.

"Damn it kid - that table is older than you are!"

Ruth's eyebrows were scrunched together, but she sent Greta an apologetic look. "Sorry! I just realized… how did I end up at Dr. Barrows?"

"You sure as hell didn't walk there." She grumbled, stirring a little harder.

Carol abandoned her rag on the counter and took a seat at the table. "Well, when you decided to be reckless, " She started, making Ruth slump down in her chair. "Greta was very worried about you - "

"I wasn't, really."

"- so she was going to go in after you -"

"Don't read too much into it - "

"Greta, please!" Carol huffed, sending her partner a reproachful look. "As I was saying, she was going to go but instead Charon took off after you."

"Wait, wait - " Ruth looked at her in shock. "Bigass motherfucker with a shotgun Charon? 'I can break your neck with one hand' Charon?"

She nodded, pushing a stray blonde lock behind her ear. "Yes. I went down to ask Greta if she could get an early start on the cooking when he kicked the door open, holding you in one hand and his shotgun in the other!"

"It was quite…_ inspiring_…" She sighed, staring off into space, hands on her cheeks. If ghouls could blush, Carol's cheeks would surely be pink.

Ruth tilted her head. "How was it _inspiring_?"

"I'll tell you when you're older kid." Greta replied, humor lining her voice.

"You do know I'm actually an adult, right?"

"Whatever you say, vaultie."

* * *

><p>Charon lit his third cigarette of the day - which would have probably been his twentieth if his bastard employer would let him smoke while standing around the 9th Circle all day.<p>

He could hear Ahzrukhal now,_ in the few seconds it takes you to light up I could be viciously attacked._

The ghoul took a long drag. _Bullshit_. It had been years since he'd had to actively stop a threat on the slimy ghoul's life, ever since they'd come to live at Underworld.

Opening that shitty bar had been on of the worst things he could have done to Charon - at least out in the wastes he could hold out hope that someone would get passed him and off the son of a bitch. Now he played bouncer to the same handful of drunks and sadly, all he had to look forward to were his smoking breaks and the pissed off look Ahzrukhal would get when someone spilled their drink on him.

He sat down on the steps, resting his elbows on bent knees. The cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth as he stared at the hulking figure of the Mammoth. Surprisingly, it stood the test of time - it looked the same as it did the first time he saw it. _Doesn't seem so big now..._

The door creaked open but he didn't turn around. Charon absently noted the person's light footfall as they sat down on the steps, far enough away to be polite but close enough that he glanced to the side. _What now?_

Ruth caught his gaze and gave him a nervous smile, holding a lit cigarette in her hand. "Oh - hey, just, you know, taking a break."

He flicked his eyes back toward the furry mammal. He heard her inhale, and immediately start coughing.

"This is fucking horrible!" She choked out, and Charon felt a stab of amusement.

After the fit passed, he could feel her look at him a couple of times. "Uhh…" She mumbled, scooting closer to him.

Still he ignored her, wondering what she wanted. Did she come to ask for his silence, not wanting word to get out that she was trying to kill herself? That maybe she wasn't as capable as everyone made her out to be?

His hand shot out to wrap around her wrist, halting her from trying to touch his shoulder.

"Oh fuck please don't kill me!" She cried out, flinching back.

Charon's mind went blank. "Don't touch me." He said lowly, releasing his hold.

The vault kid's eyes popped open and she was suddenly waving her hands. "No no - that's not what I meant to say! I'm sorry you just scared the shit outta me - not that you're scary… well ok you are but not because of your appearance… well you are really tall and big and your shotgun is like damn but…" She trailed off, catching the look on his face.

His cig wasn't finished but he debated on just cutting his losses and heading back in.

"Look what I just wanted to say was thanks for helping me this morning, I kind of over did it this time so, yeah, thanks." She picked up her dropped cig and dared another puff, this time look a bit less green.

"Don't mention it." He replied.

"Oh, right." Ruth nodded, peeking up at him. "You're not gonna ask what I was doing?"

He inhaled sharply. "No." Charon grunted, blowing smoke from his nose. What was left of it, that is.

Her eyes lit up in wonder as she watched him. "Whoa, how did you do that?"

"Shut your mouth." He said simply.

Suddenly, she was glaring at him. "What the hell? Look, I'm sorry about what I said but you can't take what I say in fear seriously - besides how do you not freak out when someone grabs you like that and - oh!"

He couldn't help it, the corner of his mouth tilted up. He finished his cig and stood, heading back for an evening of standing and maybe, just maybe, ruffing someone up. _If only_.

"See you tomorrow Charon!" The vaultie called after him,

The ghoul glanced back at her smiling face before the door shut. _I doubt it._

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><p>(Next chapter will have Ruth gaining Charon as a companion and hopefully leaving Underworld to go do crazy things! Thank you so much for reviews, fav's and fallows!)<p> 


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